


Under planning and not enough thinking

by Candace_X_Chambers



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Break Up, Depression, Established Relationship, M/M, Self-Worth Issues, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 22:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12375840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candace_X_Chambers/pseuds/Candace_X_Chambers
Summary: The picture falls from Sidney's fingers, his knees follow it a moment later as the uncontrollable weeping sends him crashing to the ground. The sounds of his teammates and their touches are distant, like background noise. All that he can see is how happy they looked together, and how he fucked it all up. He doesn't even know how, but he did.





	Under planning and not enough thinking

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written for this fandom in awhile, but I had the urge and here we are. The POV switches between Sidney, Alex, and no one, so hopefully that's clear as you read. This is, as usual, a terrible idea but it's written out and there's no going back.
> 
> As always, I own nothing and no one, nor do I claim to. This goes unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine and mine alone.

_2016_

He didn't think much of it the first time it happened. The Penguins hoisting the Cup, the greatest night of his life, and his boyfriend didn't call. Secret boyfriend, he might add. Sidney knew Alex was just sitting at home — either watching the game or moping around his place, a bottle of vodka clenched in a fist. The disappointment of yet another year without making it past the second round, the pressure of doing better the next year, weighing heavily on his mind. Of whether or not serious changes were to come to fix a team that, despite being stacked with talent, just couldn't get the job done. This was Sidney's second Cup, Alex hadn't even won his first yet. So it didn't come as much of a surprise that he didn't hear anything that night. Or the next night. Or the next. Until it was nearly two weeks later and the sound of Alex's ringtone blaring in the quiet room startled him out of sleep. A drunken apology that was half-broken English and half-Russian, words slurred and hinted with the sound of tears. Whatever anger Sidney had held inside for the silence instantly vanished at the image of Alex genuinely crying. He wanted nothing more than to fly to Russia or Washington, wherever Alex was hiding himself, and hold him close until the pain went away. Assure him that his day will come, to not give up. He's Alexander fucking Ovechkin, after all. Cup or no cup, he's still one of the greatest to ever tie up his skates.

In that moment it doesn't do much to calm Alex's insecurities, but it's definitely chirping material used against him for the next few months.

~

_2016-17_

Again, Sidney doesn't think much of it when Alex doesn't speak to him before their games — sometimes after, if the Penguins blew them out of the water — or during the playoffs, especially after the Penguins knock them out. Again. And, no matter how much it stings, he doesn't think about the fact that he doesn't get a call or a text from his boyfriend when they make it to the Finals or win the Cup again. This time is about family, his hockey family who were all but blood related to him. About celebrating one last time with the guys who'd be departing for another team. About making memories that they might never get the chance to make again.

It does start to bother him three weeks later when Alex still hadn't called. When he'd been ignoring his messages. His voicemails. He'd even stooped as low as asking Geno what Alex had been up to, his friend thankfully taking his need to know as 'just checking up on a friend' without questioning it further, just to hear that Alex was acting like his usual self. Spending time with friends and family, going out partying and drinking near every night as he settled back into the swing of the off-season. Still training and going to the gym to get ready for the following year. He was good, the loudest person in every room and almost always had a smile on his face. It nearly brings Sidney to tears, knowing that Alex is doing well and living his life as normal, that he's not too upset about another year of failure that he couldn't pick up the phone and at least let Sidney know he's doing okay.

But then again, Alex had always been a master of masking his emotions with an exuberance and over-affectionate nature he'd become known for. So, just because he may look okay, doesn't mean he really is.

At least, that's what Sidney tells himself.

~

_September 2017_

His parents don't think much of it when he tells them he's coming home earlier than normal and spending the whole off-season there. Going back to Cole Harbour and seeing his family provided a good distraction. It always did, no matter what was going on in his personal life. And that was exactly what he needed.

But the only thing that could permanently pick his spirits up was hockey. As the weather cools down, Taylor starts getting ready for school again, and he takes a flight back down to Pittsburgh — he can feel it in his bones. An overly-excited jitter running through him as his teammates make their way down as well, everyone filing into the arena for their first practice. Hugs are exchanged, handshakes between new members. Some still mourning the ones who have moved on. Everyone is radiating the same way Sidney is, nearly bouncing with joy. But it's all business on the ice, stretching their legs out and getting back into the feel of the season. Coach yelling at them to work harder, push harder. They could go all the way for a third time if they were determined enough. 

With Geno back in town and, almost, over his jet-lag, Sidney can't help but to think that Alex must be, too. That he's been in America for a week and still hasn't contacted Sidney. Hasn't contacted Sidney since before last season's playoffs started.

He calls again. Gets the voicemail, again. Leaves another message he's sure will just be deleted.

~

It probably wasn't his greatest idea. With the media lurking around, looking for a juicy story to focus on until the season officially begun, sneaking off to Washington a few days before the Penguins' season opener was sure to end in disaster. But he needed to talk to Alex. If this was his way of breaking up with him, even if it wasn't exactly the most appropriate way to go about it, then Sidney needed to hear it. Even if it broke his heart, knowing that the past year and a half he'd spent with Alex — that the past year he'd been in love with Alex — was going to end a lot sooner than he envisioned, he had to hear it or he'd keep clinging to a small part of him that still hoped things were okay. That things weren't over.

His eyes light up when he spots Alex exiting the Capitals locker room, a heavy weight leaving his shoulders. The only thing he wants to do is run over there and latch himself onto the other and never let him go. But instead Sidney pulls his hat down a little further, keeping his head down so no one would recognize him. He says Alex's name, just loud enough for both of them to hear, once he walks past, and the Russian stops a few steps later. He turns around, a somewhat annoyed expression clouding his features, expecting to have to deal with yet another reporter asking yet another question he didn't want to answer. His eyes widen in surprise when he realizes he was wrong, a flicker of happiness in his eyes before it blanks out, the rest of his face following suit.

He looked like he didn't even know Sidney, nor did he care to.

"Why are you here?" Alex asks, dragging him out of the open view and into an empty hallway. Not much of a better hiding spot, but it provided some privacy. "Did you not get message?"

"No! That's the point. I haven't gotten any messages from you in, in months. I've missed you." Sidney looks up at Alex with hopeful eyes, silently asking if it's alright to touch him. With Alex so close and his hand so warm where it's wrapped around Sidney's bicep; the urge to put his hands on Alex's chest, or wrap his arms around that firm body, or just hold his hand was overwhelming.

Instead, Alex pinches the bridge of his nose, releasing his hold on Sidney's arm. "Not text message. Jesus, Crosby."

 _Crosby_ and not _Sidney_. A distinction between the two was made by Alex a long time ago, back when Alex was just the Russian guy who was friends with Geno and always invading Sidney's personal space. Sidney when they were being friendly, Crosby when they were enemies on the ice and wanted nothing to do with each other. Hearing that name when they don't play until October stings, making Sidney wince.

Alex wants nothing to do with him.

He's stunned into silence, blinking away the fast building tears at the realization. Alex wants nothing to do with him. He knew it all along, despite his desperate need to not admit it. Why else would Alex have ignored him for all this time?

"Why?" His voice is quiet, shaky and laced with desperation. "What did I do wrong? I — I thought everything was good —"

"Stop," Alex says, a hint of sadness to it, "you did nothing wrong. Just did not work out, yes?"

"Didn't — didn't work out?" Sidney spits back, a little louder than he intends to, "we barely gave this a chance!"

Alex puts a finger on his lips, shaking his head. A silent request for him to be quiet. "This.. is over, okay? I will see you when we play. Don't contact me before then."

Then Alex just walks away as if he hadn't just ripped Sidney's heart out of his chest and crushed. He wants to follow, but they'd be lucky enough if nobody spotted them just from that conversation. Sidney Crosby pathetically runs after Alexander Ovechkin isn't a headline that would benefit anyone. So Sidney stays where he is for another moment, staring at the empty space in front of him before his feet begin to move, carrying him over to his rental.

It's not until an hour later that he has to pull over, thankful for the lack of traffic, because it's finally settled in. That the tears have finally bubbled over. Shoulders shaking as he sobs, forehead pressed against the steering wheel. 

He and Alex are over. Not only romantically, but their friendship as well. For as much as he pretended to hate Alex's presence, he actually really enjoyed their friendship. He was someone Sidney could depend on for a pick me up and managed to bring a smile to his face whenever they were near each other.

But that's gone. Alex is gone. Every fear he had about going into this came to fruition and there's no going back.

He stays there for awhile, letting all of his emotions pour out of him. The sadness turning to anger as the two mix together until there's nothing but an ache in his stomach and in his eyes and an empty feeling in his chest. He stares at the dashboard for a bit longer before making his way back onto the road, making his way back to Pittsburgh.

~

_October_

Nobody had thought much of it at first. In hindsight, they probably should have, but the sad look in Sidney's eyes was brushed off as still mourning the loss of their teammates, specifically Flower. Tanger was the same way, having been extremely close with their former goaltender and Kuni. Losing both of them had hit him hard. Hit all of them hard.

But they had new teammates, old friends, and a game to play.

A month passes. Tanger is more than back to his usual self, as is everyone else. Everyone but Sidney.

The sadness has faded, but it's replaced by a deep emptiness. He doesn't joke around with the guys in the locker room, doesn't have much of a reaction when they tease him. He doesn't go out with them unless Geno forced him, but even then he doesn't say much besides casual hockey talk. There's no fire in his eyes when he plays, even more so during their game against the Capitals, which usually always gets him pumped up. He goes about his captain duties as normal, plays as well as he always does on the ice.

But something is very wrong.

They approach him about it, one by one. Geno, Tanger, Horny, Phil, Olli, Dumo, Murray talk to him in person. Flower, Kuni, and Nealsy call him. Even Jack Johnson checks up on him. Sidney keeps his calm, steady demeanor through all of them, switching the subject to hockey effortlessly. If it wasn't for the blank, emotionless stare, the way he smiles at them like they're the reporters and not his family, they'd believe he was actually doing alright.

Nobody's sure who tells Mario, but as Tanger and Geno are discussing an intervention they hear angry voices from the locker room. A look inside sees Sid shoving his gear away more forceful than he usually does. Mario's hands on his hips as he stares Sidney down. "You're not fine, Sidney. Everyone can see it and we're all concerned for you. Just let us help, or let us find someone who can."

Sidney's hands clench into fists as he walks over to his stall, yanking his bag onto his shoulder. "I don't need help, I'm not a fucking child. You and everyone else can stop worrying because the only thing it's doing is pissing me off."

Mario looks like he has more to say but Sidney books it out of there, causing Tanger and Geno to scramble back in an effort not to be caught eavesdropping. Thankfully Sidney is too caught up in leaving to notice them.

"I've known Sid for years and I've never heard him talk to Mario like that," Tanger says once their captain is out of earshot, "something's fucking with him bad and we need to do something about it before it can't be fixed."

"Talking to him is not.. doing good. So intervention is not best idea." Geno mumbles something in Russian, rubbing his chin. "He no like because talking is not good Sid thing. Especially with feelings. So we.. show him we care? We talk to him, not make him talk."

Tanger nods along, wheels turning. "You might be onto something there, G."

~

It takes a lot of work, from all team members and their families, and a lot of tape and glue, but they end up making a heart shaped poster for their captain. An **"We Love You, Sid!"** written on the top in Vero's handwriting, below it dozens of pictures of Sidney with his friends from the Penguins organization and across the league. It looked impressive and fancy. And, even though Sidney wasn't much of a materialistic person, unless it was hockey related, they were all optimistic that he would love it and bring him out of his funk. With the playoffs in just a few months, this was the perfect time to fix the bond that had been severed off this season.

They had a home game against the Capitals that night, so they placed the large heart in Sidney's stall to greet him when he got there. In what had to be a blessing, he was surprisingly late so they had enough time to get it set up and settle in as they awaited his arrival.

//

It wasn't until Sidney tried to set his bag down that he noticed the large object blocking his path, having been too lost in thought to notice it. He already felt embarrassed enough being late — his brain yelling at him not to go because he didn't want to see Alex. His more logical side demanded he go because he'd lose his job if he didn't, and it's not like he'd have a way of properly explaining his absence. He has his pre-game rituals to do and he was running out of time. But he didn't want to start crying himself asleep again. He stopped doing that last month and would rather keep it that way. And now this was here and all the attention was on him again and it made everything just that much worse.

Why didn't they see he just wanted to be left alone?

Sidney sets his bag down on the floor instead, taking a step back to look it over. It, it made his heart soar, a smile itching its way onto his face — a real one. All of the sweet memories he'd made with them over the years, both on and off the ice. Some really old, some from this year, but they were all perfect. In that moment he felt silly for being so depressed and shutting himself out from them all. They're his family, always. And even though he'd been nothing but a selfish asshole to them, they all got together to do this and cheer him up.

He doesn't know what he did to deserve such an amazing group of people, but, fuck, he couldn't be more thankful.

"You like?" He hears Geno before he feels him, those familiar strong hands on his shoulders, and Sidney doesn't have to look at him to know there's a goofy grin plastered on his face.

"I love it," he replies, starting to get choked up, "I.. I don't know how to thank you guys. Wow."

"Buy us drinks after we kick ass, and smile more. Is nice smile, light up whole room." Geno gives him a one armed hug from behind before stepping away.

"You being happy is good enough payment, honestly," Tanger says, "we we're all worried about you, Sid."

"I know." He feels sheepish in admitting it, but —

He freezes, eyes glued to a picture towards the bottom right.

His feet carry him forward, absentmindedly reaching forward to take the picture off. It's from last year's All Star game. He and Alex are kneeling side by side talking to PK Subban.

They had been so excited to spend the weekend together, especially while playing hockey, that neither of them cared about keeping up their "rivalry". Not that they ever really did. But they'd been so happy and in love that parting for even a moment those few days was practically torture. It usually was back then, back when everything was perfect. Before he'd lost the best thing that's ever happened to him, before his heart had been broken.

The picture falls from Sidney's fingers, his knees follow it a moment later as the uncontrollable weeping sends him crashing to the ground. The sounds of his teammates and their touches are distant, like background noise. All that he can see is how happy they looked together, and how he fucked it all up. He doesn't even know how, but he did. It's been five months since their official break up, though it was over months since then, and Alex probably didn't think about him anymore while Sidney was still stuck on the past. He's the epitome of pathetic. Crumpled up on the floor, wrecked mutters of why wasn't I good enough in between harsh gasps for breath. At this point he was out of tears but his shoulders keep heaving as he rides it out. All in front of his teammates, too.

His teammates who were worried and just wanted to help, just wanted to have his back. And he's treated them like nothing but shit in return.

There's a moment where the swears he feels Alex wrap his arms around him, whispering soft Russian words into his ear. Sidney's sure it's an imagination, but he buries his face into that sweet smelling neck and desperately clings on anyways.

~

Alex was laughing along to one of Nicky's "jokes", moreso at the grumpy look plastered across his face, when he was suddenly yanked from his stall. He started to protest until he saw the back of Zhenya's head, allowing himself to be dragged away from his teammates and into a training room, a million scenarios of what would piss Zhenya off this much it couldn't wait until later.

It wasn't Sidney, couldn't be. Sidney was fine.

"What the fuck did you do to him?" Zhenya snaps once their alone, speaking in their native tongue, "and don't play dumb with me. You know who I'm talking about."

Alex stiffens, eyebrows knitted together. Keeping names out of it would be best for any eavesdroppers, even if they were nosy Russian teammates, but the idea of admitting he actually done something to Sidney made Alex squirm. Who else would Zhenya be so pissed about? "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Eugene. And I'm not playing dumb, I've really not done anything wrong to —"

"Then explain to me why my captain is over there sobbing and saying he's not good enough after looking at a picture of you two?" Zhenya asks, anger growing. Alex's eye widen slightly, flicking around the room as he tries to come up with something, anything.

Out of all the possible scenarios, Alex didn't think this would be the one that happened. Sidney was always so strong, always stronger than Alex. And, yeah, he knew that losing someone you loved but stung but Sidney has hockey. He has his friends, most who he even considered family. He has support, people to lean on while he struggled to get back on his feet. Hell, Alex only really had Nicky but he was doing alright. The only time it really hit him was late at night when he'd go to text Sidney only to remember what happened, that too familiar loneliness overcoming him. But Sidney wasn't lonely. He had people. Alex almost can't believe that Sidney would be so destroyed by this, but Zhenya wouldn't lie to him. Not about this.

How did it get this bad?

It's partly what he wanted, isn't it? Make it hurt just enough that Sidney wouldn't fully move on, not before Alex had the chance to prove his worth. In all honesty, it was a stupid plan. Nicky told him as much once after hours of trying to pry it out of him, and he wasn't dumb enough to deny the fact. But Alex needed to do it, for himself. For Sidney, who is the embodiment of perfection. Who deserved so much more than what the world could offer him, more than any human could offer him. So much more than Alex could offer him, but he was going to try and give him even an inkling of what he deserves.

"Can I see him? I need to—"

"No," Zhenya instantly shuts him down, fiery eyes boring into the older male, "but you can tell me how you fucked him up so I can fix it. He doesn't deserve to suffer like this, especially over a selfish asshole like you."

Alex purses his lips. For as much as he wants to pour his heart out to Zhenya, let him know what happened and try to help Sidney however he can until Alex can put the pieces back together. Pieces he never thought he'd have to pick up. But he can't. The backlash from his home country would be dangerous enough for Alex, and possibly Sidney, if anyone had ever found out. The last thing he'd ever do is put his best friend in the line of fire as well. So Alex just shakes his head. "I can't tell you. I really can't. It's for your own good."

One of Zhenya's better qualities was his inability to hide his emotions, so Alex can watch the change of fiery anger to realization to murderous play across his face. He braces himself to the attack that's surely coming, a couple hands around his throat or a good punch on the jaw, but Zhenya keeps his distant, practically shaking with rage.

"I told you if you ever did anything with him to not fucking break his heart," Zhenya sneers, "yet you did it anyways. And you both kept it from me."

"He wanted to tell you, I told him not to." Which earns him another murderous look, causing Alex to shut his mouth tightly.

Zhenya's eyes stay glued onto him for a few moments longer, teeth grinding. "I hope, for whatever reason you'd do this to him, that you're happy with it. And I hope you know that you lost the best thing that will ever happen to you." Alex's heart drops to his stomach, calling out for Zhenya to stop, but he goes ignored.

Ignored by someone who matters to him. What irony.

He didn't lose Sidney, he couldn't of. 

There's just a few more months until the playoffs. Then he'd be just a few steps closer to making everything right again.

~

_July 2018_

Months have passed and Sidney doesn't feel any better. He cries less, which after how many times he'd done it lately he'd be surprised if he ever cried again, but he still has that empty feeling inside. His teammates still help, sometimes they even manage to convince him that he's out of his funk before he goes back home and is reminded of all the memories, but they've stopped trying to figure out what was wrong. He thinks Geno knows somehow, the Russian bristling and snapping whenever someone mentions the Capitals or Alex. They all just assume that the two were going through another rough patch, and no one was brave enough to question it. But it's comforting knowing someone understands his struggles without ever having to talk about it. It almost makes him wonder why he never did it sooner.

But he still doesn't get better, and his play is only suffering because of it. He doesn't get better as his team barely fights their way into the playoffs, snagging the first wild card spot. He doesn't feel better as he watches the Capitals win the President's Trophy, knowing they'd have to play each other in the first round. Or when the Capitals practically sweep them, killing their dreams of a third straight Cup before they ever even got the chance to make them a reality.

He doesn't feel better as he flies back to Cole Harbour much earlier than he expected to, ignoring the obvious pity in his parents' voices as he asks them to leave him be for a bit. At least until the seasons over. He doesn't feel better as he watches the Capitals emerge triumphant from the second round. Or the third. Or as they go into overtime against the Blackhawks in game seven, a one timer from Ovechkin's stick earning them the victory. Earning them their first Stanley Cup. Then Sidney's stuck between feeling proud — he knows better than most how hard Alex has worked to be in that position, how much winning the Cup means to him. How he blamed himself for not trying harder, for not being better, every time his team was kicked out too early despite coming off a hot season — and angry — because seeing Alex kills him, seeing Alex so happy without him kills him. Because knowing that the only thing holding Alex down, keeping Alex away from his dream, was the only thing holding Sidney up — and that just makes him feel even worse. Even after all of this, he still loves Alex. He will always love Alex. And he should be happy that at least one of them is doing alright. He should be happy that Alex is happy because that's all he's ever wanted.

But he's not sure he knows what it feels like to be happy anymore.

~

A few days later he hasn't moved from his couch much, staring blankly off at the wall. He keeps replaying the game over and over in his head, watching the pure elation on Alex's face as he held the Conn Smythe. As he hoisted the Stanley Cup over his head.

He used to look at Sidney like that.

The sound of a knock on the door doesn't register to Sidney at first, but he eventually he manages to get himself up on shaky legs. He doesn't bother checking who it is, knowing no one but Taylor or his parents would bother coming over without an invitation first.

Except there isn't a young woman in front of him, and the chest is too muscular to be either of his parents. His eyes make it's way up to the face and. Oh.

He takes a step back, swinging the door shut in Alex's face — but a strong hand stops it from closing all of the way.

"Sid, please. We must talk."

He doesn't know why he lets go of the door, allowing Alex to come inside. He chalks it up to his inability to say no to that goofy face, which is what got them in this situation in the first place.

"Thank you for opening door, it is very hot out there." Just like that Alex is able to slip back into their old ways, joking and looking smug. As if being outside in Canadian weather didn't have an effect on him at all.

"What do you want to talk about?" Sidney asks, a hand rubbing over his face.

"Us!" Alex nearly bounces as he says it, eyes brightening. "I won Cup so we can be together now."

Sidney blinks a few times, not believing this conversation was happening. "You broke up with me so you could win the Stanley Cup?"

"No, no," Alex is quick to reply, cursing to himself, "I mean before I was not good enough, but now I am. Not best, but I am someone you can be proud of."

Sidney stares at him in disbelief before he starts giggling, growing towards a full on laugh that leaves him doubled over. This had to be some kind of twisted joke, a cruel prank that went on for too long. There's no way that Alex, the most prideful and cocky man in the country, would dump him because he felt like wasn't good enough. Because he wanted Sidney to be proud of him. Alex could have never won anything in his career and Sidney would still be proud of him. Still be proud to be with him, even if they never told anyone. 

Alex makes a move forward, hesitantly putting a hand on Sidney's shoulder, starting to ask if he's okay, worry written on his features. And Sidney swings. He doesn't feel his fist connect against skin, but he sees the way Alex flinches back, holding his mouth. His expression is unreadable as he stares at the floor, at Sidney.

"I deserve that. And more, probably." Alex nods, running his tongue over his bottom lip. "I thought you would be happy.. I was wrong, and I am sorry. And I am sorry for coming without..." Alex stops, hands resting on his hips. His head is pointed towards the ground so Sidney can't see his expression, but he sees the way Alex's hands wipe at his eyes.

"I —" Alex stops himself again, voice shaking. He looks Sidney over, a wave of _remorseremorseremorseremorseremorse_ hitting him all at once. "я люблю тебя," he chokes out, taking one last look at Sidney through the water threatening to spill over, before he's heading to the door and walking out.

He doesn't understand Russian but he's heard it enough times from Geno during games and from Alex late at night when the other thought he was sleeping to know that я люблю тебя meant I love you and that Alex was truly sorry and he still loved him. He knew that even though Alex did something so typically him yet so unlike him that Sidney still loved him just as much, would never stop loving him. And he knew that, if they just put in the work and gave them another shot that they could go the distance, just like they talked about.

But, for as much as he can't say no to Alex, he's better at denying himself the thing he wants most.

**Author's Note:**

> There might be a second part to this if I get the urge. If not, enjoy the ending !!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr by searching ajxallxday. Thank you for reading, and all feedback is greatly appreciated. :3


End file.
